This Time, No Glass Shoes
by waning-moons
Summary: CaptainSwan in a Cinderella format. Only about 5 chapters total, fluff
1. Chapter One

Emma Swan was strong. She never broke, no matter what life threw at her, no matter how many times she was let down in her life. Sure, when things got rough, she felt it, the anger and deep-rooted sadness that her life turned out the way it had, but she never once let it consume her. No matter how many families had decided she just wasn't 'the right fit' (an even 10, to be precise,) she'd kept up hope that one day, some day, she would find her family. Of course, when she thought she finally found it with the Swans, they were killed in a random carriage accident. She was promptly thrown out of the first house she'd ever really called home. On that day, she knew that kind of happiness just wasn't in the books for her. (She would never admit this, even to herself, but she still found herself hoping and searching for a place to call home.) In house eighteen, she'd met _him_. Baelfire. He too was looking for a family, and as they fell in love, they decided that each could be all the family the other needed, and ran off to start a life together. They even married at seventeen, and they became all the family the other needed. However, when she found herself with child, Baelfire couldn't take on the responsibility, and left her and her unborn child to beg for food and shelter on the streets.

Eventually she was taken in by a grouchy but sweet old woman who would only ever respond to 'Granny'. She had thrown herself into all the work she could find helping Granny maintain her farm, at least until Granny confined her to bed rest so she would have her child as safely as she could. She birthed a beautiful baby boy, who she named after the only man she'd ever really considered her father, James Swan. Her happiness was dampened when Granny fell sick soon after her son's first birthday. Thankfully she died in her sleep, peacefully and quietly with Emma and James at her bedside. However, this left the Swan family on the streets once more as Emma stole just to keep food in James' belly. She got desperate during the winter, stealing from houses as well as people on the street, but eventually she made a mistake, and tried to rob the richest family in the town (who she thought were at their winter home in the south), but was caught by the youngest daughter, Regina Mills. Regina let her stay, and eat their left-over dinner, though she claimed it was only because she took pity on the child, whom she dubbed Henry. (Emma quickly decided that Henry fit her little boy far better than James did, and never bothered to tell Regina his first name.)

Regina, who was alone in the large Mills manor (having sent all the staff back to their families until her commanding mother returned) decided to hire Emma, but once more, only for Henry's sake. Emma worked hard in the last of the winter months, making herself useful any way she could, though she never truly befriended Regina. During her first week under the Mills' employ, she lost track of Henry who'd begun to crawl and waddle off silently, and found him in Regina's quarters, the two of them playing together until she stepped on a creaking board. Regina had straightened immediately, putting on a cold and detached mask almost instantaneously. They had decided that while Emma worked, Regina would watch over Henry, Regina almost becoming Henry's second mother. That is, until the rest of the Mills family returned from their holiday and the matriarch fired Emma upon sight. Regina had come to her defense, stating that Emma could do the work of three servants, and they could fire two chambermaids instead and save money. What Regina hadn't revealed however, was that the two servants in question had found better positions elsewhere, having quit over a fortnight ago. Emma, of course, already knew this, having eavesdropped on Regina's conversation with the women. When Cora and Zelena, the other two members of the Mills family, saw three-year-old Henry, they immediately decided that the 21 year-old woman was worse than the mud that dirtied their petticoats. Emma knew that with Henry by her side and no husband or even ring in sight, she was considered little more than the women selling themselves down by the docks. Yet she still couldn't help it when she lowered her head every time they glanced at her with _that_ look in their eyes.

Across the next seven years under two-thirds of the Mills' disparaging glares, she learnt to hold their gazes a little longer each time. Her relationship with Regina was strained, as the older woman would often take part in friendly arguments with her, but whenever Cora or Zelena entered the room, she immediately closed up. Emma understood of course, having listened at enough keyholes to learn exactly how Cora mothered her children. However, it kept them from being any more than friendly aquaintances, just as Regina was with the rest of the staff, but she also knew that they had something Regina didn't have with any of the other maids. They had Henry.

* * *

Tonight, on Henry's tenth birthday, Emma realized that she would never be able to give him all the material things that Regina could, though she tried her hardest, as she watched them reading a history book together. But she didn't mind too much, because she knew he loved her, as he knew she loved him. And when she would give him a gift, he treasured it all the more for the rarity of the event. She smiled at him when he looked up, and walked out into the cool night air. She leant on the short wall that surrounded the property, looking at the gleaming castle in the distance. Emma had promised to never lie to herself, so she knew that it would be foolish to hope to even set foot in the palace, but she could remember when she was younger, wishing she could be a princess and live in a fancy house with a king and queen to love her, and friends everywhere. Henry's birthday was always somewhat bittersweet for Emma, as she reminisced on all the new memories they'd built in the last year, but also reminiscing on her time with Baelfire. While she loved Henry with all her heart, a part of her wished that Baelfire had stayed, and Henry would have a father, just like she'd imagined for herself. Emma couldn't help but smile a bit when she recognized the ache in her heart that Baelfire had torn, but just as with every year before this, the ache had lessened, and she felt a little lighter when she returned to the quiet party deep within the servants' quarters as it had been every year before.

* * *

The next morning, Emma was washing the floor in the main hall when there was a loud, but quick, knock at the great oak doors. She opened the door and saw some kid in royal servants' attire, holding an envelope out to her with his nose in the air. Emma sighed, and leant against the doorframe.

"What's up, kid?" The kid looked startled, as if it never occurred to him she might have a voice.

"Good morn to you, my…" The kid flourished a bow, scanning her wet dress, clearly trying to find an appropriate substitute for 'lady'. "My good woman. I have been tasked by the King himself, to…" Emma tried, she really did, but she couldn't help but zone out the second he smirked at her, as if the fact that he had to obey someone who was subjectively better than him was an honour. She blinked when the envelope was waved before her face. She scowled at the kid as he glared right back, clearly pissed that she wasn't paying attention.

"Alright, I got it. Important message from the king, super important, to be delivered immediately." She snatched the envelope from his grip and turned away, shutting the door with her foot as she looked over the fancy script flowing across the paper... It looked, nice, she supposed, but with her inability to read, she couldn't bring herself to care. She leisurely crossed the slippery hallway to the 'Grand Parlour' as Cora called it. She knocked. She knocked again. Faintly, she could hear music being played within, sounding nice, if it weren't for the screeching voice of Zelena singing over it. So she just walked in.

"You! Why in the realm would you show such impertinence by entering this room without express permission?" Emma rolled her eyes at Cora's annoyance. The books would need to be dusted again, she noted, as she looked around the room. If only Cora or Zelena would read one of the dozens of books they possessed! Regina read often enough, when she wasn't spending time with Henry or being lectured by Cora, but the books still laid mostly untouched.

"Sorry, I mean, I guess I could come back later, it's just, that messenger from the _palace_ said this was _very_ important. Sorry I interrupted." Emma shrugged and went to open the door, slowly counting from three to zero in her head.

"Wait!" There it is, she thought, smirking. Of course, when she was facing the Mills, she was perfectly blank as she stared at Cora.

"Yes, Miss Cora?" _Smack!_ Damn, but she's got good reflexes, Emma thought. She rubbed her smarting cheek and looked back at Cora. "Apoligies, did I do something wrong Miss Cora?" Emma fought hard to keep a smile off her face as she looked straight at the cloud of fury engulfing Cora. Emma knew that the servants were to never say anything to Cora but 'Mistress Mills', the badly hidden anger she possessed for not being a noblewoman forcing itself to the top of her concious.

"I barely tolerate your presence here now, do not push me beggar-girl. The envelope, now." Emma smiled beatifically as she handed Cora the envelope, as she left the room, she winked at horrified, yet, clearly quite amused Regina as she sat, speechless at the piano. Emma earned a small smile in return. She closed the door behind her, but immediately crouched beside the keyhole to hear what the letter said.

"The girl wasn't lying, it has the king's seal Mother!"

"Oh do be quiet Zelena and let me open it!" There was a rustling of parchment before Cora let out a gasp. "It's an announcement for a festival to…to find the Crown Prince a wife! My darling, darling girls, this is it! This is what we have been waiting for! If one of you can win the Prince's heart, we can finally be royalty, just, as we've always dreamed." Emma scoffed quietly, rising from her uncomfortable position. She already knew what Regina's reaction would be to her mother's aspirations. Regina was in love with one of the friends Emma made when she was theiving to survive. Zelena, however, would be thrilled at the chance to be Queen. Emma walked back up the servants' staircase to her room where Henry was sleeping. When she opened the door to her room, Henry was sitting in the rocking chair beside their bed reading one of the books Regina had given him as she taught him how to read. Henry loved to read anything and everything, a trait Emma sadly couldn't share with him.

"Hey kid, how's the story?"

"It's really good mom, want to hear some?" She nodded and laid down on the edge of their bed, closing her eyes as Henry began to read one of the stories to her. "This one's called 'Cinderella' and it's about this girl who lives with her evil stepmother and stepsisters. There's this ball that's happening and Cinderella really wants to go, right now it's about to get good, Cinderella just met her fairy godmother. 'Cinderella was confused. She watched as the smiling woman picked up her mice friends Gus and Billy and as smoke engulfed them, she saw hooves sprouting from their paws, their tails lengthening and growing hairs until two pure white stallions stood before her. Her fairy godmother chuckled at Cinderella's awestruck expression, and waved her wand over the pumpkin patch, and the largest pumpkin in the garden hopped over to where they stood, but when it stopped more smoke covered it until it swelled into a crystalline carriage. "And now, my dear, for you!" Cinderella looked down at the rags that had once been her mother's dress. "Let's see, how about… blue!" Her fairy godmother twirled her around and smoke bloomed and swirled around her legs and circling up her whole body. When it dispersed, Cinderella was standing in a beautiful sky blue ballgown made of the finest material Cinderella had ever felt in her life, and when she poked a foot out from beneath the folds to find it housed in a georgeous glass slipper.'"

"Sorry, kid, but I've gotta stop you there. _Glass_ shoes? That sounds way too uncomfortable for going to a ball." Henry smiled at Emma's disbelief. He closed the book and put it on the bed beside her, leaning forward and holding her hand, mocking a serious expression.

"Mom, it's just a story, it's not supposed to be _realistic_!"

"Yeah, yeah I know, kid. Still, I don't think I would be up for dancing in shoes like that!" He joined her on their bed as they laughed together. For a twenty-eight year old woman who'd been working since dawn Emma was still quick enough to flip them around so that she could have a better angle on Henry. She wiggled her fingers on his sides until he was crying from his laughter.

"Emma, it's mother, she-" Regina burst through the door, but stopped when she saw Emma holding Henry above herself, tickling him mercilessly. "Put him down a moment please, and listen to me?" Emma sighed and let Henry skitter away, still giggling. "Emma, mother wants me to go to this festival and try to-to _seduce_ the Prince! What am I going to tell Robin?" Regina paced across her small room, hands grabbing at her hair, eyes glaring at the floor. Emma got up from her bed and grabbed the slightly older woman's shoulders to stop her movement.

"Regina, first you've got to calm down. It's going to be fine. Just go to the festival and avoid your mother as much as you can. You know, the first night is even a masquerade, you and Robin could meet up there and spend time together, out in the open. Then at the end of the festival, you just tell your mother that you couldn't get near the guy with all the other desperate girls around. It really is that simple." Regina sighed.

"You're right. I shouldn't overthink this." Regina smiled at her and walked out of Emma's room, closing the door softly behind her. Emma sighed and flopped on her bed, wincing at the hard wood beneath her small mattress, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

* * *

"Girl! Get down here, now!" Emma jumped awake at the sound of Cora's voice. As she looked out her window she realized she had fallen asleep. She shot up and hurriedly fumbled around her small room changing out of her wrinkled clothes haphazardly. She ran down the steps only realizing she was barefoot when she stubbed her toe on a corner. When she turned to go get some shoes she realized there wasn't enough time and continued on her path to Cora's chambers.

"Hey, sorry about the delay Mistress Mills, what can I do for you?" Emma arrived out of breath and leaned against the wall to support her sleep-heavy body.

"There is soon to be a festival at the palace and the girls need new gowns. Remember, none of that simple stuff Regina likes. A nice regal purple should do." Cora paused. "Well? What are you still doing here? Go!" She left it unspoken that she would also get new frocks, likely hoping Emma wouldn't order her any, giving her an actual reason to whip her. Emma rolled her eyes and returned to her room, slipping on a brown pair of breeches and white blouse. She strapped on her belt, scabbard, and sword around her waist, just in case she encountered any unsavory characters on her ride into town. She found Henry in the middle of a lesson with Regina and explained she had to go into town before racing out to the stables, saddling Rociante, Regina's prized stallion, once she mounted, she realized once again she wasn't wearing shoes. She just shrugged and urged Rociante into a gallop, feet only half in the stirrups. They raced down the road into town, Emma leaning forward onto Rociante's neck to increase their speed. The wind rushed through her hair, pulling it out of the sloppy braid she'd put it in the night before, whipping across her face causing a wide grin to spread across her cheeks. As they entered the town's gate Emma slowed the powerful horse to a slow walk until they reached the dressmaker's shop. She tied him to a hitching post nearby and entered the building.

"...Hello? Anybody in?" She walked through the deserted shop, trailing her fingers along the wall of sample fabrics, eyeing the ballgowns lined up all around the room. Some were simpler, others so covered in frills and lace Emma could barely see the dress underneath.

"Hey, Emma! What brings you in here? Orders for the upcoming festival? We've gotten so many I don't see how we'll be able to keep up!" Emma jumped when Ruby, co-owner of the business along with her partner Dorothy, popped up by her shoulder.

"Hi Ruby. Yeah, I'm gonna need fifteen dresses, three per festival day. You still have all the Mills' measurements, right?" After Ruby thought about it and finally nodded, Emma continued. "Zelena's going to need some greens and separately, some scarlets. I assume she'll want them a bit risque, but Regina needs blues and light purple on her gowns and more skin coverage." Emma paused, thinking of Regina and Robin Hood, her secret beau, smiling at the idea of surprising them both with a more seductive dress. "Actually, make two of her five the same style as Zelena's, just not too much, y'know? Then just the regular style and colors for Cora, but a bit fancier."

"Sounds good, should I put those orders closer to the top of the pile?" Ruby winked conspiratorially.

"No, thanks. Or actually, can you get them done as soon as you can, but only deliver them the day before the festival begins? That way they're stuck with the dresses." Since Emma began working for the Mills family she and Ruby had become friends, commiserating about two thirds of the bossy women and their demands. As Emma was leaving the town she decided to take a detour towards the palace, curious about the two reclusive princes in residence,wondering if she might be able to catch a glimpse of them. She rode through the forest leisurely, her curiosity about the royal family dimming as the morning wore into the afternoon and she realized she couldn't care less. That is, until she met one of them.

* * *

Killian raised his spear, poised to throw and put an end to his quick hunt. He released it, but the stag leapt away and a horse reared at the long wooden spear suddenly embedded into the tree in front of it.

"Shit!" He heard a voice yell out as something thumped onto the ground. He ran to the voice, stopping when his eyes met two furious hazel ones. "Hey, you! Did you throw that stick at me?" The woman stepped closer to him, blonde hair flying out behind her from the breeze. She had her hands on her hips and was limping slightly.

"Well, yes, but I actually was aiming for the stag that had been there before you came along." Killian rubbed behind his ear with his good hand, a nervous habit he'd never been able to shake. He looked over the woman again, only then noticing that she was wearing breeches. She was also...barefoot. "Sorry love, but you do know that you haven't got any shoes on yes?" Somehow, though it had seemed impossible, her glare hardened further at his words.

" _Really!_ Actually, no, I hadn't noticed I was barefoot in the middle of a forest. The sharp pine needles and sticks poking my feet weren't a dead give-away! Thank you, so much for telling me this vital piece of information in regards to my apparel. That's really helpful of you!" The blonde rolled her eyes as she spoke, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Love, I'm just trying to help, I mean you no harm."

"Oh yeah, you made that super clear when you threw your pointy stick at my head, _love_!" The blonde looked around them and swore again. "And now my horse is gone. Today is going just great for me. Thanks, random stick-throwing guy." Killian was puzzled. Amused, yet puzzled. No one had ever dared speak to a prince in such an indignant manner.

"I'm trying to tell you love, I was aiming for the stag you scared off. Besides, seeing as this is my family's property, I feel it should be I who is so outraged." The blonde froze, blinked, and raised her eyebrows.

" _You're_ one of the princes? Seriously?" Killian waited for her to tell him why it was so surprising that he was the prince. "But, you look so...normal!" He looked down at himself and could see what she meant, seeing as he was wearing a higher-quality version of her outfit, though he wore a pair of black boots over his breeches. He smiled at that and the blonde's bold words and blatant disrespect for his family.

"And if I am? What does that have to do with our situation?"

" _Our_ situation? There is no _our_ in this. This 'situation' is that you tried to skewer me and now my horse - and it's not even really _my_ horse it's my" she paused suspiciously " _stepsister_ 's horse - is gone and I won't be able to get home before it gets dark." Killian then realized that this woman was likely miles away from her home and even with proper shoes it would take over an hour before she would reach it, considering she'd been on horseback, and it was almost sunset.

"Then I'll just have to take you home myself. Come on, mount up."  
"No! I'm not going to hitch a ride from a random stranger who threw a stick at me!"  
"Bloody hell lass it was a spear, and it's not like someone more trustworthy is magically going to appear! Get on my damned horse so we can be done with this!" The blonde huffed in defeat and leapt into the saddle behind him.  
"Take me a couple miles up the road and we're good." Killian nudged his mare forwards, wondering at the blonde's pride that wouldn't allow him to bring her all the way back to her house. The woman behind him continued to be a surprise, not even holding on to him as his horse broke into a gallop, keeping her seat even without stirrups to keep her in the saddle. They reached the main road quickly, turning north and continuing on for about three miles when she reached around him to stop the horse.  
"This is where you leave me. Thanks for the ride Your Wonderful, Generous Highness." The blonde dismounted with practiced ease and began walking towards what Killian could only assume was her home. He watched her for a few minutes, but once it was clear she was done with him he turned his horse around and rode back towards the palace.


	2. Chapter Two

After Emma landed on the dirt road she immediately continued walking away from the Mills' residence, just in case he decided he actually would arrest her. She heard him sigh in irritation, cantering back towards the palace. She waited until he was out of sight before turning around and following him back on foot. When Emma reached the Mills estate the sun was just beginning to dip beneath the horizon.  
"Shitshitshitshit..." Emma prayed that Rociante made it back, if he hadn't, there would be hell to pay from Regina. She crept into the stables to see Rociante waiting for her. "Thanks, Ro for leaving me in the middle of the forest with a crazy stick-throwing royal asshole!" As Emma continued to rant about the arrogant man she met in the forest she untacked Rociante and brushed him down, only pausing when August, her friend and the head groom entered.

"What's got you so riled up this time, Emma?" August smirked, clearly having heard her up in the loft and finished grooming Rociante with her as they chatted about Cora and what she'd missed that day in the Mills house. "I can feed and water him so you can go to Henry if you want to." Almost all of their conversations ended in such a way, Emma would begin to fidget and look towards the door until August noticed and he would tell her just that. Then she would quickly hand him her brush (as she did now) to run through the door, calling loudly for her son. ("Henry!") She'd barely entered the house before Henry would be hurtling over, an amused Regina following. ("Hey, kid! What've you been doing today?") Henry would recount an outline of his entire day to Emma as she sat down in the servants' common room and she asked just enough questions that he wouldn't notice her exhausted smile as she looked at her baby boy. He'd been growing up so fast lately, these moments every evening where they just sat together and talked about their days were on some days the most she would see of him, so Emma made sure to relish every second.

"So that's pretty much all of what I did today. What about you, mom? Why were you so late?" Emma glanced at Regina before turning back to her son.

"I took Rociante to order some dresses for Regina, Zelena, and Cora. Since I had a lot of time left, I decided to come back the long way through the forest beside the castle. And now I'm back. Now, I'm going to snag some leftovers from dinner, and you can tell me more about what you learned today. Sound good?"

"Yeah!" Henry lead her to the kitchens, practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. When she sat down in the servants' dining hall, he launched into an extremely detailed description of what he'd learned in his daily lesson with Regina. Per Emma's request, Regina had begun teaching Henry everything he might've been taught if they'd been wealthy enough to afford tutors for him. Regina had started a few days after his sixth birthday and had continued every day except the holidays since. Emma wanted Henry to have everything she hadn't had, including an education. "Regina is teaching me about the king and his different laws. Did you know that there's a provision in one of the standard laws that says it's illegal to hunt or kill bluebirds? Or that horses pulling round-ish carriages can't gallop? Or that live-in servants are essentially the property of the person who pays them? Or that if you catch a fish that's less than six inches you have to throw it back?" Henry continued listing interesting laws and why they were enacted, but Emma couldn't pay any attention to them, fixated on the third law he listed.

* * *

Late that night, Emma snuck into Regina's room, anxious for answers. But Regina wasn't in her bed. Emma looked through the rooms attached to the bedroom, finding Regina in her study.

"Regina?" Regina didn't respond, but the slight movement of her head in Emma's direction indicated that she was listening. "That law that Henry mentioned earlier, can you tell me more about that? The one that said servants are essentially property?" Regina turned to face her.

"Of course I can, but I don't know if you truly want me to." At Emma's half-hearted glare, she continued. "That particular law was enacted a good fifty years ago, by our current king's father after there were growing reports of servants refusing to work. The law previously was that employers couldn't physically harm any of their employees, and the king at the time decided that the easiest way to resolve the problem would be to essentially make live-in servants slaves and their employers their owners." Emma sank to the carpeted floor, too shocked to stand again. Regina had to help her into the chair she'd previously occupied. "Emma?" Regina crouched to meet Emma's hazel eyes. "Are you alright?"

"No." A tear traced its way down her cheek. "I'm not." She sighed heavily. "This law, where does it leave Henry?"

"As long as you both live beneath my mother's roof and she pays you for work, he's in the same situation as you." Regina pulled another chair to face the one Emma occupied, sitting down and taking her shaking hands. "But you never signed a contract Emma. At any moment you could quit and take Henry away with you."

"Your mother, Cora, could she take Henry from me?"

"Yes." Regina put a hand beneath Emma's chin. "If she were to take Henry, she could essentially put him up for sale, and it would be completely legal. I was going to tell you after Henry turned eleven, since twelve is the youngest someone can be legally employed at. For now, my mother would gain nothing by taking Henry. Which is why you need to find" Regina's voice broke, "a job somewhere can't stay here." Tears coursed down Regina's cheeks, matching Emma's.

"I can't take him away from his mother, Regina. I couldn't do that to him, or you." Emma finally met Regina's gaze, smiling slightly when the other woman covered her mouth with her hands to stop her sobs. "I know how much you love my son, Regina. And I know how much he loves you in return." Emma took a deep breath a wiped her tears with a sleeve. "There's got to be another way." She paused. "What are the laws about adoption?"

"They're pretty flexible, but to adopt you must be married with a house in which a child could safely live." Emma nodded, deep in thought.

"Regina, do you love Robin?" Regina's head shot up in surprise.

"...Yes, I do."

"Would you marry him?"

"Yes! Of course I would, but how does this help Henry?"

"Does Robin want another child?"

"He already has Roland, but yes, I would think he does. What are you planning, Emma?" Emma stood up and began to pace across the room as Regina watched, a plan coming together in her head.

"I know Robin loves you, and would marry you in a heartbeat. So if you were to marry, you could adopt Henry, and he'd be safe from any future employers I might have. I could save some money and buy a house beside yours, and he could visit whenever he wanted." Emma looked at Regina. "The only question is if you would run away, and be alright without the luxury you're used to." Regina lit up as she understood what Emma was proposing, but her face fell once more.

"There's one more problem. Robin gives every extra cent away when he steals. We wouldn't be able to buy a house in the first place. There's also the fact that Henry couldn't stand to be away from you for the months, maybe years it would take for you to buy a house as well." Emma's face fell too, when she realized the truth in Regina's statement.

"What about the festival? Who's been invited?"

"Every rich or noble family in the kingdom, why?" Emma waved away Regina's question, proposing one of her own.

"What if we sold your gowns and your jewelry? How much do you think would be left over after replacing it with a more practical wardrobe? Could you get a house big enough for the four of you?"

"Maybe a small house in town, or a decently- sized cottage with room for a garden farther away from the city, but not for all four of us. Either way, we'd need another full wardrobe and a half for a comfortable home with furniture."

"What about old Macdonald's farm? How many of your wardrobes would that be? It's only been for sale a week, and Mitch says his father is looking for someone he already knows and trusts to pass his farm to so that he can move in with his son and daughter-in-law."

"I'd say one and a half, but the building materials to expand the farmhouse and also build a small cottage would be the other half. Furnishings would be about a quarter of my wardrobe, and it would be good to have some savings as well."

"All in all, about three wealthy women's wardrobes, six or seven if it's just the jewelry. Yeah, we could swing that. What do you think?"

"How do you propose we get that kind of money, Emma?"

"You leave that to me Regina. You just focus on your surprised face when Robin proposes the first night of the festival."

"Wait, we-you-we're actually doing this?"

"You want to live happily ever after with your soulmate, don't you Regina? Leave it to me and you'll have the happy family you've always wanted. Okay?"

"I suppose." Emma pretended not to notice Regina's dubious expression.

* * *

The next morning, that is, a couple hours after Emma concluded her conversation with Regina, she took Rociante into town once again, leaping from his back before he came to a stop in front of Ruby's shop, landing on her booted feet.

"Ruby! Open up!" Emma banged loudly on the locked door until Ruby opened it, clearly still half-asleep.

"Emma? What do you want? The sun hasn't even risen yet!" Emma shouldered her way into the store, walking purposefully into the back room.

"Do you still have the dresses from your cancelled orders? I need three. And a mask, I guess. Preferably tailored. Can you get it done before the masquerade beginning the prince's festival?"

"Yeah, I mean, that isn't too hard, but what do you need ball gowns for, Emma?" Ruby asked as she opened a large cupboard, pulling large heaps of fabric out that Emma could only assume were dresses.

"I'm going to the festival." Ruby dropped the fabric in shock.

"How did you get an invitation? It's only for the rich and nobility!"

"I wasn't invited, I'll be sneaking in. Speaking of which, could you actually modify the dresses so that I can easily reach my sword, but you can't see it, and I could potentially fight in them? Iis that way too much to ask on such short notice?"

"No, no, just give me a second. Okay, five dresses-" Ruby began scribbling furiously across a piece of parchment.

"Just three actually-"

"Five dresses - you need a different gown every night or people will notice, Emma - with a pocket big enough for a sword, and flexible enough to fight in. One with a matching mask, and each with matching slippers."

"Actually, I don't need new shoes, I'll just wear my boots. And now that you mention it, a pocket on the other side that's just really big would be great too."

"Okay, a really big pocket in all of them. Anything else?"

"That's it, thanks."

"Alright, let me get your measurements and you can go. Come back two days before the festival and I'll give you your gowns." After Ruby had taken her measurements, Emma thanked her profusely before riding back towards the Mills estate, making a quick pit stop in the forest across the road to meet with Robin Hood, she made it back to the stables just as the sun was rising.

* * *

A few days later, Emma took a brown mare named Horse (by a then three-year-old Henry) back into town for the third time in a week to collect her dresses from Ruby. Dorothy took Horse around the back of the shop as Emma entered through the front, getting many gasps from other patrons for her blouse, trousers, sword, and boots. Ruby beckoned her into the back room where she had five dresses hung on a rod just below the ceiling. One was light blue, another green, then purple, midnight blue, and a striking scarlet finished the collection.

"I need you to try each one on, and then if they fit we'll see how accessible your sword is. If everything works, you'll go out back and see how mounting, riding, and dismounting feels in each gown. Got it?" Ruby's dark hair was pulled away from her face, her stance impatient, and not waiting for Emma to respond, just pushed her behind a curtain and threw one of the gowns in with her. It was a beautiful emerald, with no clear way to take it on or off - "You might need to feel the bodice for the clasps!" Ruby's voice penetrated the short silence.

Emma did as instructed and opened a panel in the middle of the chest to reveal the ties that normally would be in the back where a lady's maid would have to help the wearer put on the gown. She pulled it on over her head and used the ties to tighten it around her body. The skirts were light, and only barely grazed the ground, leaving her legs relatively free. Smoothing the fabric down her hands brushed against a small bump in the fabric. Emma pulled it and accidentally lifted a flap that revealed a belt around her waist. She traced it and on the left there was a rise in the leather that was actually a scabbard hidden beneath the skirts. She removed her sword from the scabbard she'd discarded when changing and slid it easily into her dress, at the perfect angle for a quick removal with her right hand. On the right side of the dress, a small sack was tied to the belt, creating the perfect removable pocket. All in all, the design was genius, the hilt of her sword hidden beneath a small cape that wrapped gracefully around her shoulders.

"So? What do you think? It's pretty great, right? The mask covers your face from your mid-forehead to the end of your nose. Also, the sleeves are long, but if it's an inconvenience the seam along the shoulders is loose so you could rip them off if you need to. Now come out here so I can see it." Emma pushed the curtain aside and walked over to Ruby. "Oh, I almost forgot Emma, I left just enough room that you can still wear your pants underneath the dress. So, what do you think?" Ruby asked for the second time, but actually waited for Emma's response.

"I think… that this is the greatest thing I've ever worn!" Emma laughed, spinning a bit, watching the skirt flare out around her.

"Great! Now get on that horse!" Ruby dramatically pointed to the door that lead to the stables.

* * *

The first night of the festival Emma was tasked with preparing both Regina and Zelena for the masquerade ball, including bruising Zelena's ribs with the corset in her princess costume and tying Regina into her bride costume. Once the Mills had driven away, Emma laced up Ruby's emerald creation, secured her mask, sheathed her sword, mounted Rociante, and made her way to the palace. The plan was simple: while Regina and Robin were married by Father Tuck, Emma would sneak into the ball and steal as much jewelry as she could get her hands on. When she arrived at the palace, it was clear to see that the stables were completely unguarded, since most people were only just arriving, so as to be 'fashionably late' at nine o'clock when it started at seven. One stall was clearly a makeshift holding pen, the perfect place to put Rociante in case she needed to make a quick escape. She then went around the back of the castle, focusing on the few open windows on the first floor. She needed to enter somewhere unoccupied, but close enough to the ballroom so she wouldn't be suspicious loitering around the palace. Emma edged along the castle wall as far as she could, until she had to stop or one of the guards posted outside the ballroom would see her. Lifting herself up with only some grace, she swung into one of the rooms, careful not to bump into anything. Quickly making her way out of the room, she followed the music until she entered the ballroom. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, with chandeliers glittering overhead, a smooth marble floor beneath her, it was clear that she was in a room fit for royalty. Mentally shaking her head, she directed her attention to the people around her, and more specifically, the sparkling bits of their outfits. Walking through the crowds, she noticed how none of the women's necks were bare, precious stones dripping from their collarbones. Looked like her first piece of jewelry would have to be a necklace so she could blend in. One woman in particular looked like she was wearing four different necklaces, each featuring a different gem. Walking towards the other woman, Emma pretended to slip on her dress, catching herself using the woman's shoulder. Apologizing profusely, she snuck her other hand to the clasp of a necklace as she hugged her supposed 'savior' and quickly snuck away when her prize was in hand. Slipping into an alcove, she secured the necklace around her neck, only just noticing that it was an emerald. Feeling lucky that her jewelry would match her dress, she made her way out into the gardens where many were relaxing outside the crowded ballroom. After making a few rounds and stealing over a dozen pieces of jewelry, she decided it would be best to go back into the ballroom where there would be more people with more money.

* * *

Killian was bored. There wasn't anything to do but dance and drink, and seeing as a prince couldn't be drunk at his own festival, he was left with dancing. So far he'd danced with twelve princesses, nine queens, and eight brides (that is, women dressed up as such. Most of the eligible ladies were dressed as one of the three, not-so-subtly hinting at what they hoped to gain from the ball.) The rest of the women were the mothers of said eligible ladies or already married. Running a hand through his hair, Killian decided to take a break out in the gardens, hopefully escaping the young women and their unsurprisingly determined mothers. As he made his way through the ballroom, he accidentally bumped into a young woman in a green dress. Tripping over her skirt, he stumbled, but not before making out a muttered "watch where you're going, asshole" from the blonde. He could've sworn he'd heard that voice before, and the hair seemed familiar too. The blonde woman continued on her way, slipping out of his sight just as he remembered the barefoot blonde from the forest. She was here. But before he could go after her, another woman recognized him and practically dragged him to the dance floor. It was four more dances until he escaped, making his way to a balcony which he knew held a great vantage point of the gardens, all the while watching for blonde hair and a green dress. Killian made it to the balcony and realized that he wouldn't need to use it to find his blonde, as she was already there.

"Hello again." The blonde whirled around at his voice, shock clearly written across her masked features.

"You! You're the jerk that bumped into me earlier! What is it with you and physically assaulting me?" She combed through a part of her hair with her fingers, the moonlight glinting off of the rings on all of her fingers and the delicate bracelet around her wrist.

"In all fairness, both times were entirely accidental." He paused, looking over her emerald green gown and matching mask. "May I ask what your costume is, exactly?" She blanched, hazel eyes widening beneath the fabric of her mask.

"Um, I'm a, um, I'm dressed up as an emerald." Killian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her clear unpreparedness.

"Might I know your name then, Lady Emerald?" He bowed, only half mocking, since her attire and presence clearly denoted a noble status.

"No, that's okay, 'Lady Emerald' works just fine. Any way, I need to get going, so, I'm going to go now." She tried to leave the balcony, but he couldn't help but wrap his good arm around her waist and spin her so that she was back to facing the gardens. She huffed out a breath and moved to sit down on the bench beside one of the walls. As she did so, he noticed a worn pair of riding boots beneath her skirts.

"It seems, my lady, that you are beginning a record of not wearing the appropriate shoes whenever we meet." 'Lady Emerald' looked down to her feet and shrugged before returning her gaze to the gardens before them.

"Who says riding boots aren't the appropriate shoes? They're far more comfortable than anything the women out there are wearing, anyway."

"But wouldn't it be embarrassing for you if you were to be dancing and your choice of footwear were to be revealed to the other guests?"

"I think my attitude towards people seeing my shoes was made pretty clear when I shrugged instead of blushing like a teenager when you saw my boots, Your Highness."

"Fair enough. But wouldn't your family at least be somewhat ashamed if the previous situation were to happen?" 'Lady Emerald' paused as though deep in thought.

"I guess they would." Then she shrugged. "But then again, who says I'd be dancing in the first place? I'm guessing you haven't seen me out there tonight, dancing with some handsome bachelor. If I don't dance, people can't see my shoes, and if I don't want to dance, I won't."

"There is one problem with your solution Lady Emerald. I saw your shoes, and you weren't dancing at all." She shrugged again.

"But it's also just you, it's not like anyone else is watching." Her quick dismissal both annoyed and relieved him. It was relieving to meet someone who would treat him like a normal person, but annoying that she would have so much disdain towards a position he was quite proud to occupy. So he sat down next to her, looking at her masked face.

"You know, I'd be much more comfortable conversing if you took off your mask, since I'm not wearing one. Or if we just properly introduced ourselves." The woman's expression told him exactly how ridiculous she thought his proposal was. "I'll go first. I'm Prince Killian, pleased to meet you. And you are…?"

"I'm good, thanks." The clock began sounding out twelve bells, signalling midnight. 'Lady Emerald' stiffened and stood. "This conversation has been great. I had a lot of fun." Her sarcastic tone hadn't changed at all since he last saw her. "But now I really do have to go. So, bye." Just like that she took off.

"I think I'm going to call you Cinderella!" Killian called out to her. She paused and looked back at him, her question clear. "You know, odd shoes, a stepsister, and leaving at midnight?" His only response was a quick nod, instead of the rebuttal he'd hoped for to make her stay, even just a few minutes longer, and she disappeared into the crowd once again. Every few seconds he would catch a glimpse of her bumping into one person or another, but not once did Cinderella look back at the prince she was leaving behind.


	3. Chapter Three

The next morning, Emma was completely exhausted. She'd only arrived back at the Mills' estate at three in the morning after visiting the pawn shop a few towns over, only to have to wake up a few hours later to begin her daily chores. Quietly, she dressed in a blouse and trousers, hair in a tight braid, and escaped her room thankfully without waking Henry. Her first task was to collect the Mills' dirty clothes to be washed (by her), and more importantly, doing so without disrupting their sleep. She first went to Regina's suite only to find all her dirty clothes piled just inside the door. After silently thanking Regina, she brought the pile of dresses down to the laundry room before returning upstairs to collect Zelena's load. Zelena being Zelena of course, had her clothes spread haphazardly around the room, making it doubly hard for Emma to not wake her, especially when she had to pull soiled undergarments from beneath Zelena's foot. Successful in two of the three rooms, Emma gained confidence that would cost her dearly. Collecting all of Cora's clothes, she was about to leave, before noticing a nightgown half hidden by a small accent table. Pulling it out, the load of clothing in her arms bumped the table, causing it to crash to the ground. Cora immediately sat up, eyes searching the room for the cause of her disturbed sleep. Locking eyes with Emma, she smiled and stood, slowly walking to her closet as Emma watched, frozen in place.

"Do you know what you just did, Miss Swan?" Cora's disjointed voice floated across the room to Emma, followed by the snap of Cora's 'disciplinary switch'. Knowing better than to leave, Emma sighed, shoulders already aching from the beating that had yet to come.

* * *

Some hours later, Regina nudged open the door to Emma's room with a foot, eyeing her defeated form. Emma watched as Regina placed a small basin of water beside her bed, Regina's intention clear when she wrung the excess water from a washcloth.

"This is going to hurt, Emma." Though they'd both been through this scene dozens of times before, Regina always warned her before she began to wash her bleeding back. Emma hissed at the sharp pain when the cloth connected with her back, but Regina didn't stop, only pausing for a few seconds before continuing in her task.

"So-" Emma pulled in a quick breath between her teeth, but, determined to take her mind off the aching sting of her back, continued. "How's the-" She clenched her jaw, "How's the married life treating you?"

"Well, seeing as I haven't seen my husband since the ceremony, it's about the same. Speaking of which, how is the money collection going?" Emma nodded at the pile of Henry's clothes in the corner of the small room.

"Take a look." Regina pushed Henry's clothes to the side to find a sack the size of her head at the bottom, pulling the drawstring to open it, she gasped as the light hit the gold pieces inside the burlap sack. "Should be about half the cost of John MacDonald's farm, right?"

"Yes, yes this is - this is a lot of money! How did you get so much in one night?"

"You know, just a little here and there. A few dozen rings, thirty-two bracelets, and forty-seven necklaces. At this rate, tomorrow morning we can buy John's farm, the day after we can get the building materials to expand the farmhouse and build me a cottage, and the day after we can furnish both houses and get other necessities. By the last day of the festival, before the fifth ball, we can take Henry and move onto our new land. What do you think?"

"I think that this is an incredibly illegal way to make money." Both women laughed, knowing that it wasn't hurting any of Emma's targets to lose some ostentatious jewelry, though the movement of her shoulders sure as hell hurt her. When Regina finished bandaging Emma's still sluggishly bleeding back, she sat back on her heels, knowing as Emma did, that her injuries didn't excuse her from her daily chores. "I'll be back before you have to prepare us for the ball tonight to change your dressings."

"Could you also make sure Henry keeps away from me today, without letting him know you're purposefully keeping him away?"

"I mean, of course I will, but why?" Emma sighed.

"Well for one, he's a smart kid, he'll figure out what happened this morning and I don't think either of us want to deal with that. For another, I like hugging the guy, and I won't be able to resist. You know how it is."

"Alright, I'll take him to the part of the library devoted to the law to pick out some books and take him to my study so he can read in peace. That should keep him distracted for the next four months. I've got to go, will you be okay?" Emma nodded, but before Regina could shut the door, she called her back.

"Actually, Regina, once Henry's all set up in your study, you should probably come back to help me with my chores and for a crash course in 'how to do things' for when you'll be doing all this for your own house. You know, until the houses are ready for us, I think you should stick with me to get some practice." She grinned at Regina, already picturing the other woman's reaction to her daily workload.

* * *

"How do you get up in the morning?!" Regina flopped onto her bed, exhausted from the tasks Emma had given her. "And how do you go to bed at night on this bed? It's awful!" Regina glared at Emma's pitiful excuse for a bed. Emma however, just laughed.

"You learn to do it automatically, and get fast enough that you still have a good amount of free time. But do not tell your mother - or your sister for that matter - what I've just revealed to you. It is a very well-kept secret of the serving class. As for the bed, it's better than nothing." She sat beside Regina, who continued moaning, face-down on her bed. "Now get up, we've got to make you pretty again. What would your husband say if he saw you in such a state of disarray?" Emma chuckled at the glare Regina threw her when she sat up.

"God I hate you right now." Emma just laughed again in reply. She then disappeared to get water to fill Regina's bathtub, taking five trips of two buckets-full each. Giving Regina the soap (Regina insisted on total privacy while she bathed, which meant she washed herself), she went to her wardrobe to pick out the gown Regina would wear.

"Hey, how does a nice lavender sound for tonight?" When Emma received a muffled affirmative, she pulled out the undergarments Regina would need. Once the woman in question had dried herself off, Emma secured a corset around her waist, pulling at the laces until Regina could barely breathe and helped her step into the mountain of petticoats that would give the ballgown a fashionable amount of volume. Finishing her friend off with the actual dress over her head, Emma took a step back, proud of the quick assembly of Regina's outfit. When she'd completed Regina's hair and makeup, Emma then had to (reluctantly) help Zelena get ready, which included scrubbing every inch of the woman's body until it shone, suggesting every ball gown in her closet until landing on the one Zelena had likely wanted to wear all along, trying exactly four different hairstyles, being berated for not-so-accidentally making the process as painful for Zelena as she could, and getting ropeburn across her fingers from tightening the laces on her corset harder than ever before. Without a word of thanks, Zelena had dismissed Emma from her chambers which brought her to that moment, back in her own cramped room perpetually wincing as Regina pulled off the bandages stuck to her skin with dried blood.

"Ow! Goddammit Regina, could you be a bit more gentle?!" At her comment, Regina removed the strip she had been working on far more forcefully than the previous bandages. "OW! Okay, I get it! You're being as gentle as you can-Agh! Ow. That was the last one though, right?" Looking over her shoulder at the woman behind her, she relaxed at Regina's nod while tensing at the sight of the bloodied bandages at her side.

"I'm going to suggest that you wear the red tonight, just in case you bleed through the new wraps. Okay?" After Emma's affirmative grunt, the rest of their interaction went by relatively silently.

* * *

If mounting Rociante had been painful, dismounting after a rough canter was excruciating. Closing her eyes at the relief of having two feet firmly planted on the ground, Emma was tempted to remain beside the horse instead of entering the ball. Reminding herself that everything she would do that night would help to ensure that her son would never have to experience anything close to the pain she'd been subjected to that very morning, she infiltrated the palace through the same window as the last night. Making a mental note to speak to the prince at the fourth ball (the last time she'd have to enter the palace) about increasing security or just making the current security measures better. Deciding that tonight her body would not be able to handle all the purposeful bumping into people she'd done the previous night, Emma chose to target bracelets, purses, and pocket watches (also known as things she'd be able to slip off a person relatively easily without being noticed). Tonight the plan was to get as many valuables as possible before midnight when she'd have to leave in order to make sure that she'd be back at the Mills' before they returned and avoid the prince she kept encountering. Thankfully, she could predict what he'd be wearing based on the other prince waltzing across the ballroom. The music crescendoed and the couples began moving faster, swirling around each other with a grace Emma could never hope to have. Making her way around the perimeter of the room, she carefully slipped bracelets from the delicate wrists of the noblewomen and used a small dagger to cut the chains of the noblemen's pocket watches. This continued until about eleven in the evening, with only a few close calls in regards to facing the prince. Thankful that the night had gone off without a hitch, Emma relaxed. That is, until she heard a disturbing exclamation from a woman she'd just relieved of a particularly fetching set of gold bangles.

"Someone's stolen my bracelet!" At the lady's shrill announcement, other guests began to notice their missing accessories, shouts of indignation filling the room. Knowing a quick exit was in her near future, Emma made her way out into the cool night air, taking a turn around the garden, waiting for the music to resume, the weight of her stolen prizes inexplicably growing heavier. Suddenly, a hand was over her mouth, and she was being dragged to an unoccupied corner of the gardens. Realizing the intentions of her captor, Emma went limp, waiting for the lights of the ballroom to disappear behind the foliage before fighting back. She brought a foot down hard onto one of her captor's, causing him to release her. Spinning around, she counted four young noblemen, all with presumably the same goal.

"Really? Four against one? That just seems unfair." Emma put a hand on the hilt of her sword, surprising them when they realized what exactly she was holding on to, but the man (boy, really) she assumed was the leader just laughed, his comrades laughing too. Clearly they were even dumber than they looked when they advanced on her as a group, all but the leader with hands on the hilts of their decorative fencing foils.

"Give us the sword, sweetheart, and this won't have to hurt a bit." The leader's lecherous grin seemed to embolden his friends, who drew their foils, and assumed the first stance of fencing (she guessed). This time, it was Emma's turn to draw her shortsword and against their flimsy needles, she laughed. One of the men gulped and faltered when he saw her sure stance and intelligent gaze, but it seemed that her double-edged blade just angered the other three. With one quick swipe, she cut off a good half of their foils and raised an eyebrow, taunting them. The leader finally drew his rapier and waved the other three back.

"I'm only going to ask this one more time, sweetheart. Put down the sword and I won't have to hurt you." The dangerous glint in the man's eyes just made her chuckle. He lunged, and she evaded before smacking the back of his hand with the flat of her blade, drawing a thin line of blood and causing him to relinquish his foil. Picking it up with her left hand, Emma experimentally flicked her wrist. Deciding it wasn't worth it, she just threw it back over her head. The man advanced again, an especially dumb decision when he had no weapon, and made to grab her by the waist. Spinning around, her skirt flared as she brought the butt of her sword down on his head, knocking him out cold.

"Who's next?" The remaining three looked at each other and discarded their useless foils as they lunged at her simultaneously, one trying to trip her, another knock her out, and the third making a grab for her blade. The first she kicked in the head, the second she knocked to the ground, and the third, she let him have her sword. He stepped back, clearly not expecting it to be so easy. At his sudden confusion, she took the opportunity to kick the sword back, his loose grip making the force of the impact send the hilt back and hit him in the head, breaking his nose. Retrieving her sword from the howling boy on the ground, she faced the last two that were only just getting up. One tried to attack from the side, leaving the backs of his knees exposed when she spun away and he stumbled. Quickly, she severed the tendons in his left knee, crippling him. At the same time the other had been running at her from the front, and when she evaded him, he ended up tripping over his friend. Before he could rise, she knocked him out with the butt of her sword the same way she had the leader. As the adrenaline faded, the agony of her back made itself known, making Emma sink to the ground at the intense pain.

* * *

Killian had spent the entirety of the night looking for his Cinderella (funny how quickly an unknown woman had become _his_ ), but every time he thought he'd caught a glimpse of her, she disappeared. Retreating to the balcony she'd occupied the previous night, he felt an acute disappointment when she was absent. Deciding to use it to look for Cinderella in the gardens, he was close to giving up, when he saw a blonde woman in a red dress and riding boots being dragged off into the bushes by a man he slightly recognized, and he felt his heart rise to his throat. Pushing through the angry people in the ballroom, he raced across the grounds, hoping he wouldn't be too late. When he arrived at the spot he'd seen her be dragged away, he followed the two lines dug into the ground from her boots as she was dragged away. At the end of the lines, he heard a grunt and the thud of a body hitting the ground accompanied by a high-pitched howling that he could only assume was Cinderella. Picking up a fencing foil that had been discarded, he rounded a corner in the shrubbery, entirely prepared to kill any man that had dared hurt a woman, he could hardly describe his surprise when he saw four men on the ground, and Cinderella, seated, eyes closed, unharmed, in the center. The howling was courtesy of one of the men who seemed to be nursing a broken nose, while the other three were on the ground, unmoving.

"Bloody hell woman, what happened?! Did you kill them?!" Even Killian himself didn't know if he was asking a question or just making a statement. Cinderella's eyes shot open, hazel connecting with blue.

"Dammit, I was trying to avoid you! And of course not, they're just unconscious. I think." She stood quickly, pain flashing across her face before she was neutral again.

"Are you hurt?" He stepped over an unconscious body to pull her into his arms, though she resisted admirably.

"No, I'm not! So would you just let me go?" Sighing, he did as she asked, releasing her, not believing her for a second, though he had no idea why.

"What _did_ happen? All I saw was one of them taking you here." Cinderella dusted off her gown and reached for a sword that was laying on the ground beside one of the bodies. She then wiped off the dirt and blood on one of the unconscious men's shirts and sheathed it in a pocket of her dress that he never would have seen on his own, the folds of the dress covering the hilt.

"They decided they wanted to 'have their way' with me, and didn't back off when they should have." To emphasize her statement, she rolled over one of the bodies with a foot, revealing a nasty bruise forming on his forehead, kicking him in the gut - he assumed - for good measure.

"Remind me not to cross you, love." She rolled her eyes at the endearment, though it only made him grin wider. He offered her an arm, and she - of course - pushed it away. "You know, I think my brother would quite like you." Cinderella mimed gagging, walking away from the three unconscious men and the one still crying.

"I have no intention of meeting another royal, Prince Killian. One is annoying enough." Killian jogged after her, smiling that she remembered his name, though hers was still a mystery. She looked over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes again. "Look, this has been fun Your Highness, but I have things to do, so, I'll just be going now." Running to catch up with her, he grabbed her shoulder in an effort to detain her, releasing immediately when she hissed, bowing over in pain. Looking at his hand, Killian realized that it had come away red and wet. The crimson of the blood on his hand perfectly matched the shade of her gown, so had he not grabbed her, he never would have known she was bleeding.

"You're bleeding! I knew it! You need a doct-" The rest of his words were cut off when the first bell sounded, another eleven following it. When he looked away from the chimes, Cinderella was halfway to the ballroom, not slowing for a second. By the time he made it to the outskirts of the ballroom, however, only a flash of red was left as she ran into a side hallway. By the time he made it there, nothing was left of her.

When the night was over, Killian had more questions about his Cinderella than he did answers. What was her name? Who was her family? How did she leave hours before the night was over? What or who had hurt her? How badly was she hurt? Why would she attend if she was hurt? How long before she'd arrived had she been hurt? Where did she learn how to wield a sword? Who would teach her? Who would let her be taught? Did she have anything to do with the robberies? If so, why? Who was she?

* * *

When Emma arrived at the Mills' estate, the sun was already rising over the horizon, and she was sure that she'd be caught the second she stepped inside. Much to her relief, it was another hour before the Mills' returned. The chaos she'd caused required every guest to be thoroughly searched, which, since there were over a hundred guests, took hours.

"Mom? Izzat you?" Henry looked at her as the door to their room creaked obnoxiously when she'd tried to enter quietly, clearly still half asleep.

"Yeah, it is, kid. But you go back to sleep." Quietly changing clothes, she silently thanked Ruby for making her gown so easy to slip in and out of within a few seconds and Henry for being completely oblivious when tired. As exhausted as she was, she fell asleep with a smile on her face, and dreamt of the life that laid ahead.

After finishing her chores the next morning at twice the normal speed with Regina's help, Emma mounted Horse, pushing the aging mare to her fastest gait for the few miles to McDonald's land.

"Morning, John!" She called, slowing Horse to a walk when they reached the farmhouse. Once John realized who it was calling him (his eyesight not what it once was) he opened the gate to one of the smaller pastures, waving them through.

"An' a good mornin' te ye too, Miss Swan! What brings ye t' me 'umble abode?" Dismounting - though not without some pain in her back - she sprinted over to him, enclosing him in a short but strong hug. Years ago, when Emma was on the streets with a young son, John had let her stay with him during an especially harsh blizzard. Once she was employed with the Mills, she'd made a point to visit him every few weeks.

"I, am here to buy your farm, John." Reaching for the sacks tied to Horse's saddle, Emma dropped them unceremoniously on the ground in front of him. John opened the burlap warily, as though he was expecting horse manure instead of the gold pieces he revealed. Closing the sacks, John looked at her suspiciously.

"I don' wan' te know where ye got the money from, do I, Miss Swan?" She grinned and shook her head.

"The only thing you need to worry about John, is how quickly you'll be able to move in with the rest of your family."

"Then ye're in luck, m'dear, a'cause I a'ready 'ave all m'things packed, an' I'm leavin' behin' most o' me furniture. Ye're free te move in whene'er ye want. Jus' remember te 'arvest th' crops 'n a few weeks." John embraced her happily. "What're ye plannin' te do wi' me land, then? Far as I know, 'tis jus' ye an' yer boy. Seems like m' land migh' be too big for ye." Emma laughed at his light tone, shaking her head slightly.

"No, you're right, John. You know Robin Hood, right? Him, his wife, and his son will live here along with Henry and me." He smiled widely.

"Whate'er 'appens, I'm proud o' ye, Miss Swan." They talked a little while longer, until his son came back to help his father finish packing up. Since Emma had bought the farm, John's son Mitch decided that they could completely move out. Once all his things were loaded onto Mitch's wagon, John hugged her once more before they trundled off. Deed in hand, Emma entered what was now her property and sat down on the porch, smiling at the prospect of building a house and home she and her son would finally be safe in.


End file.
